


Penance, on the Dance Floor

by KieraRutherford



Series: Penance [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character building, F/M, Sequel, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraRutherford/pseuds/KieraRutherford
Summary: The sequel to Penance Through Pleasure. This kicks off at the Winter Ball and there is a lot to unpack here. More sex, more character growth and even angst. *Warning* in order to understand this you should ready Penance Through Pleasure first!!





	1. Just a Step to the Right

“Josephine, I know Orlesian fashion is suffocating corsets but, no. Just no.” Tossing the steel bone contraption at Josephine’s feet she crossed her arms, “if I am to fight in this, dress,” she grumbled, “then I refuse to wear that horrid torture rack!”

Josephine quickly pulled a similar creation from behind her back, “I knew you would need the ability to move, so I had Dagna work on something more conventional.” It was the same shade as Diana’s skin, yet in the light it shimmered. 

“It looks light enough.” Examining it she nodded,” like a half corset, but the material… It’s impossibly light, and flexible.”

“When worn it will give the same look as a corset in binding your breasts. As is the fashion,” Josephine gave a sigh of relief as she helped Diana get into it. “It is also impervious to most magics and physical harm. A basic armor.” Finishing the last clasp Josephine pointed to the Inquisition emblem at the center of Diana’s breast bone. “Dagna informed me, that when this is pressed the corset will turn as solid as rock. An added bonus for minimal armor.”

“Minimal is fine. I work better unobstructed.” Running her fingers over the puffed bounty of flesh she was impressed with how easy it was to breathe. “Alright, let’s finish getting ready. The Empress will be expecting us soon enough and I hate being late.” 

Cullen paced up and down the main hall of the Winter Palace. His suit jacket too tight. It was clinging to his neck and the eyes were constantly watching him. 

“I have a feeling this is how your southern mages in their little stone cages feel like. Quite unnerving isn’t it,” Dorian stood beside him, wearing a matching suit in the Inquisition red. He was tugging at his gloves, a fresh pair of unworn tan leather.

“I never thought of it like that,” Cullen scanned the room, acutely aware of the hum of voices chatting and of the eyes focused on their location. “I cannot tell if they are conversing about me, or you.”

“Both, I’d say but definitely more about me.” Preening his moustache, he chuckled, “have you seen our dear Inquisitor yet? I’ve been told her dress is borderline scandalous.”

“What!?” Cullen barely got out the word, as the doors below opened. He could hear a man bellowing away as he talked. “I think she is here.”

Her dress trailed to the floor, making her seem to float across the tiles as Gaspard aided her in climbing the small mountain of steps to the gold encrusted royal blue double doors. He couldn’t get over how much red fabric there was, all stitched with golden thread that caught the light from every candle, and brazier in the room. It shimmered as she moved, crystals hand stitched in patterns upon the hem of the skirt like the seeing eye of the Inquisition, trailing up to her elaborate bodice. That bodice. It hugged her sharply and gave her a full hourglass figure, her breasts heaved and barely contained within. About her shoulders a black and red bear fur mantle, that had him struggling to supress a content smile.

“She thought of you, surely,” Dorian chuckled, his hand concealing his lips. “Or she robbed you while you slept. I can’t quite decide.”

“I… It’s very flattering on her,” Cullen tried to hold back the flush that was spreading over his chest, up his neck and across his cheeks. Ruby stain lips were what caught his eyes and sealed them to her face. As Dorian spoke softly he barely heard his voice, intently watching her crest the top of the steps before Gaspard led her inside. 

Following behind Leliana and Josephine, he listened to them announce her. “Inquisitor Diana Trevelyan. Youngest daughter of Bann Ulrich Trevelyan and Lady Emily Trevelyan. Third in line and suitor less. Tamer of the Grey Wardens, Saviour of Redcliffe, and renown Dragon Slayer.” Those titles stuck with him as Diana glided across the floor, all the bit the noble she hid within friendly company. 

Diana was listening as well, “announcing, Cullen Stanton Rutherford. Commander of the Inquisition’s armies. Ex- Knight Commander of Kirkwall.” A simple title. Nothing that carried an ounce of weight outside of the Inquisition. Something she liked all the more as her foot reached the top of the last step onto the viewing stage. 

Cullen listened to Diana speak with the Empress, all above board and normal pomp and circumstance. Once again following them all he took his place with the inner circle. Dorian was going to the balcony to keep his eyes open, the scent of far too much perfume irritating his eyes. Bull was going to stand by the food tables, always great gossip by them, he insisted. Blackwall preferred the quiet, opting to sit in the hall of heroes. It would give the assassin one less place to hide, he reasoned. Solas would linger near the servants’ entrance. Being an elf, he would go unnoticed and might overhear something as well. Leliana went to an open table, Josephine flittered about the room and doing what she always did. Seeing a table, only a stones throw from Leliana, and right beside a ceiling high open window, he took it. Standing with his back to the wall he watched people dance, come and go, listening to people speak about him. 

He always found it amusing how Orlesian’s would titter away in their native tongue, thinking that he wouldn’t know. He couldn’t count how many men rudely referred to him as a title less dog lord. While others went about discussing how golden his hair was, to how firm his ass would be in their hand while he ploughed them under the desert table. That one had him tugging at the collar of his jacket. 

While training to become a templar, he was well educated. Even learning Orlesian. Why? Because Orlesian’s are vain, and they would never believe an uneducated dog lord would know their language. His accent was terrible and so was most of his pronunciations, but he could both read it and speak it. An advantage in war, or subterfuge. They had mages that escaped from Orlais, into Fereldan and Kirkwall. Being able to thwart a potential escape or blood magic, was critical. Many outside the Order didn’t know this and he was more than content to keep the information to himself. It was something even Leliana did not know and that little bit always gave him a little chuckle. 

He hated anything noble, anything this stuffy. It was always too much. Too many people, not enough guards or security. Too many opportunities for things to go wrong and all over it was a logistic nightmare. He could very well be standing right beside an agent of Corypheus and there wasn’t anything he could do. Naked. That was exactly how he felt. No armor. No sword. He was experienced in hand to hand combat but against an armed opponent he would easily prefer even some basic leathers. 

It also didn’t help he had slept horribly the last two nights. Travelling always upset his stomach, his lyrium withdrawal at its worse. Against his foolish wishes he went to see the healer, Diana’s final prod before leaving his bed one morning. Not wanting to upset her, he went. For the next three days he suffered through some of the foulest tasting and horrid brews concocted. By the last day before they left, he brought the recipe to Diana, bags in his eyes and skin very sallow. 

Diana read over the ingredients and rolled her eyes. Having him lay in her bed, she went to that little box. Tugging out several vials she was mixing away, peeking up at him from time to time as she worked. “If you need cold air, the balcony is yours. I will be a few more moments.” 

Boiling water, same as before she added all her powders and liquids in a certain order before stirring in the water. Stirring and stirring until a faint light came from the drink. “There. Drink this, I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but it will aid in your sleep tonight.” 

He didn’t blink, just took it and carefully drank it down. It was a slice of heaven. Sweet like honey and almost like a warm ale. “How…”

“Dalish healers use more than magic and more than elfroot. That’s human foolishness. They are so much more.” Grinning she had crossed her arms while leaning against her desk. “I see you’ve wasted away while easing your sore bits. I’m glad you saw the healer, but if you want it palatable, bring me the recipes. I can make minor substitutions that won’t harm you.”

Enjoying the warmth spreading through his muscles he sighed, easing into the bed he had to admit, he missed. “How long did you study with the Dalish? This can’t be common knowledge.”

“It isn’t. Luckily their Keeper was an open and educated one. Let me come and go with them for over three years. They aren’t as wandering as their southern counterparts. I exchanged food, coin, and aid where needed. I missed my calling in life,” chuckling she pointed to his cup. “Took me the best part of one summer to get the basics of collecting the odds and ends to make that. They have different methods and treatments for making powders and essences. Entirely different than Circle mages. I’ve seen them scavenge. Not the same.”

His eyes grew heavy and he yawned, “it is potent.” 

“No, you are that tired. Now rest, I’ll mix you so more for the road. You’ll need to use it on the first night of travel and on the way back. It’s got lingering effects and you’ll wish to be sharp.” 

Sharp, yes that was why he neglected to take it. Fool that he was. Now he was fending off a hammering headache in the midst of the largest Orlesian party of the year. Not to mention, even with gloves his finger tips were frozen. Part of him doubted he could properly wield a blade and from time to time he would bring them to his lips and subtly blow. Hoping no one noticed as he warmed them. 

There were whispers about him. Whispers that something had happened with the negotiations. The real reason they were all there tonight. Gaspard was holding out for more, while Briala was putting the blame all upon him. Celene was stuck trying to pry the two off each other, and the whole thing was lost in circular jabs. 

When he saw Diana again she looked as put together as she did when he first set eyes on her in the main hall. Not a single hair out of line and she was chatting away, a brilliant smile upon her face as she worked the room. His line of view was obstructed as a crowd began to gather about him. “My Commander, has anyone told you, you have the most stunning eyes?” A female in an owl mask ran her fingers over his shoulder and he tried to maintain his stoic stance. “Yes, many times before, thank you.” 

He was fielding more and more lurid compliments and offer after offer to dance. It was becoming second nature to politely decline. By the time she came to see him, her presence was like a standing on her balcony after a night of horrors. Cool, refreshing and anchoring. “Inquisitor,” he dipped his head, maintaining his calm exterior before the gathered crowd.

“Would you lords, and ladies mind? I require a moment with my Commander. Please.” Diana was short but proper as the crowd hurried away in her wake. Stepping in close she let a smile grace just the corner of her lips, “not a fan of your admirers? You seem to have many.”

Not showing a single flinch of motion, he groaned, “no, I do not. Besides, your.” Clearing his throat and lowering his volume he quickly looked about them. “Your attention is the only one that matters to me.”

“Charming,” she continued with that soft complexion, as she spoke. “Have you seen anything? I’ve already investigated a bit. Seems someone was content to slaughter a portion of delegates. Josephine informed me they were unimportant and important. I got the reference. I’m going to make some waves before I check out something else. Knives must be kept secured better,” grinning she waited his answer, as if they were simply discussing the weather or colour of the night sky.

“I’ve seen nothing out of place, and I have yet to speak with Leliana. Our men will take more time, I can get a better...”

“No need.” Diana pressed her lips together, spreading the ruby colour deeper into her skin. “Care to dance, Cullen?"

“No, thank you,” he stood watching the noble glaring him down over her shoulder, a look of disgust on his face.

“Oh, well I… uh…”

He had genuinely thrown her off, her face had fell enough before she could compose it that he felt terrible. “Oh, Maker’s breath, no! I’ve been turning that request down so often tonight, it’s become automatic. My apologies Diana, templars aren’t known to dance.”

Her smile returned in a flash at the sound of her name. “I did not know. No harm done. I shall leave you to your work, and admirers. While I go skulking into the midst of trouble. Wish me luck.”

Stopping her, he fumbled for something in his pocket before quickly pressing it into her palm. “For luck, I’ll explain later. Just know, it’s… well... important… and.”

“For luck. I’ll guard it with my life,” Slipping it into her glove she hurried away into the crowd.


	2. Tight Spaces

Once again, he was left by the wall, but now he had a moment to break free. Excusing himself he pushed through to Leliana, who was calmly chatting away with a man in a checkered mask. Patiently he waited for her to finish and return to her space before discussing their progress, “any word?”

“If our Inquisitor can keep up her end of the entertainment this night, we could march them through the front doors,” her soft laugh, twinkled about his ears. 

Seeing another ‘guest’ come through the front doors he was certain it was Rylen. But with his facial tattoos covered it was hard to tell for sure and his mask went on shortly as he walked in. “Good. How long till we are at full capacity?” 

“Another half an hour, at most. Did she tell you where she was going?” 

“Only that she was going to ‘make some waves’ and that ‘knives should be secured’. Any idea what she was referring to?” Cullen scanned the room to see Gaspard storm away from the negotiation table before bursting through the balcony doors across the room from them. 

“Yes, I do. We need to step up our plans. She’s onto the assassin,” Leliana caught Josephine’s eye across the gallery and with a simple signal they all moved to meet in the main hall. 

All huddled closely together they whispered the final plans and Leliana slipped away easily to hurry the push of their men flooding the building. “I need my sword,” Cullen grumbled under his breath.

“In time Commander, I have it settled. When the call comes wait for the whistle. You’ll have it then,” Josephine smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work. I’ve gotten more than few dozen requests for information on you and pledges of money and more. Whatever you are doing, it is driving in the aid we need.” 

Blushing his scratched at the base of his neck, mindful of his reactions. “You have an adorable nervous tick, but going to the palace you must be aware of it,” Diana had said at dinner a few nights back. His absent-minded kneading at the stiff and usually sore muscle of his neck was more to avert his discomfort than anything else. It had developed as a young man, and now as a battle-hardened man, it was muscle memory. Clearing his throat instead, he tried to restore his uninterested disposition, “I shall try, Ambassador.” 

Returning to his corner he endured further torments by his ‘admirers.’ Including now uncomfortable fondling of his rear, touching of his arms and chest. One extremely intoxicated male tried to reach below his belt line, but he was quick enough to side step the effort. This continued on as Diana worked whatever angle she was planning. He could see little difference with the general population of the ball. 

An incalculable amount of time flew by before he saw Diana again. Her dress flowing out in the sea of mundane greys and drab olive. Watching her glide into the room he caught, Grand Duchess Florianne pull her attentions away. As she slipped from view she quickly reappeared on the dance floor, Florianne in tow. As he watched them dance away, Leliana got in close, “this is about information and the hushed passing of it.”

“I am not bothered by her choice of dance partner,” Cullen quipped, keeping his voice at a low level. Dancers were breaking away to give Diana and the Duchess more space as the music filled the room. Whispers and chatted too began to climb in volume at the sight of the Duchess and Diana’s dance. 

Josephine was beside the other advisors and tugging them over to the side exit from the dance floor as the music wound down and Diana dipped Florianne deeply before bowing and walking off the floor. “Inquisitor, they will be talking of that for months!”

“Florianne won’t be,” Diana grinned strolling forward and leading them to a safe and quiet spot. “She’s the assassin. She’s laid a trap for me, and if I don’t go, I won’t be able to put this to bed.” 

“But, it’s a trap!” Cullen half choked on his words as he stood, dumbfounded.

Tugging her gloves tighter she motioned to the small bulge in her palm, “I’ve got some luck on my side.” Heading towards Dorian she disappeared before him. 

Josephine skittered away, trying to tie up the few loose ends she was working before Diana broke the assassin. Leliana slipped away, onto some bundle of secrets, Cullen was sure. He barely had a moment to breathe before the group of ‘admirers’ were back upon him. Carefully he returned to his station by the window, all while he was being mercilessly cat called, groped and bothered. 

He stared out over the room, trying to mentally distance himself as the crowd pawed away at him. There was a job to do and he needed to remain vigilant. Seeing the Duchess slowly proceed from the back of the room, he moved to get a better angle, the crowd swelling below to the dance floor. Skirting the throng of people, he noticed Diana’s red dress. Rushing to her he saw her eyeing where the Duchess was, “Di…”

“Get your men ready. I’m taking her down.” Diana calmly strolled towards the front. 

As Empress Celene began her speech for the evening events, Diana calmly interrupted just before she announced Florianne. “I apologize, truly for interrupting your speech, your Grace, but I do so for the highest reason; blackest treason.”

The crowd gasped and Florianne looked concerned for a moment before returning her stone gaze to Diana. “That’s right dear Florianne, you tried but you failed miserably. Your Grace, my people have proof. She tried to frame her dear brother for the murder of a council herald. Using your blade, Gaspard, she was set to pin the murder on you.”

“Sister!” Gaspard shouted from the balcony.

“I… it was all for you dear brother. You, the rightful Emperor of Orlais.” Florianne held her hands up to him.

“No. That too is a lie. Her actions were to seal the fate of Orlais. By her hand, Your Grace, she was set to kill you.” Diana saw the flash of metal behind her, Florianne making her last mistake. Before Florianne could react, Diana gripped her hand, “and here is my final proof! An attempt on my life, in front of you all.”

There was a clamor of voices as Diana held Florianne tight. “Kill her!” Florianne snarled, as she took a swing at Diana, just missing her head. Diane wrenched her wrist, causing Florianne to drop the blade. Before Florianne could run away, Diana grabbed her by the hair, “my apologize, your Grace, I’m usually not so rough.” Tugging her down, she was caught off guard when Florianne’s hips snapped round and knocked her to the ground. Both struggled and tussled for the blade a few inches from their fingertips. 

Diana, having had enough, headbutt Florianne in the mouth, sending blood and spit flying. It gave her just the edge to reach the blade. With it firmly gripped in her hand she wasted little time driving it home. “For Orlais,” she quipped, pushing Florianne off her and onto the floor. “Cullen!” 

“The Empress is secured on the balcony, Gaspard and Briala too. We shall have the few Venatori left in a moment.” Cullen shouted back as he easily crossed blades with the man before him. 

Calmly Diana took a section of ripped clothe from Florianne’s dressed and cleaned her hands, using the reflection from a metal shield to clean herself before she rose off the dance floor. Brushing some dirt from her dress she lifted her skirt to walk up the steps to the overview. As the last Venatori agent fell, she calmly waited by the balcony door, not yet done the nights work. “I’m assuming the Empress wishes my presence?” Two guards lowered their polearms to let her pass. 

“You had to have known your own sister was in league with Corypheus, was plotting blackest treason!” Briala spat at Gaspard.

“No, and yes,” Diana strutted onto the balcony, a shit eating grin etched into her lips. “Gaspard had plans to take the palace by force tonight, one way or another he would be Emperor. That I can prove. Were it not for the help of Briala and her agents sacrifice, I may have never found it.”

Briala was grinning wide, “I did it, for you Celene.”

Gaspard stood, lips firmly sealed as he awaited his cousin’s ruling. Rule she did, condemning Gaspard to be executed as the guards hauled him away. 

Cullen watched as the men took the deflated Duke out into the courtyard. There would be no ceremony, and with Celene’s ruling, it would be carried out immediately. Clearing down his blade, he handed the sheathed weapon back to one of their people. He had managed to keep himself somewhat clean and having saved the life of two female guest they were now busily washing any signs of gore away. “I am thankful for your help, sincerely, but I must…”

“No Commander! We cannot let out hero look less then perfect,” the raven-haired woman was scrubbing a few spots on the tail end of his jacket and he was praying they would finish. But before he could be released from his private hell, the Empress, Briala and Diana came to the edge of the dance floor overhang. As the two women, preened him, he listened to the speech. Simple rallying points and a sign of the Empress lending aid for the battle with Corypheus. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it was free, but he was glad the night would soon be over. 

Diana saw him on the floor, his arms half folded as two women pawed away. It was clear by the expression on his face, he wanted nothing to do with the things fondling his clothing. Keeping her stone expression, she said her speech, all while scanning the crowd. Like all those horrid speech lessons she made sure to pause for emphasis, catch random eyes in the crowd and smile throughout. When she finished and returned the momentum to Celene she was glad to have the moment pass.


	3. Dipping Down

Dancing. There was always so much dancing. At some point she had, had enough. Leaning over the balcony rail she breathed in a deep lung of cool air. It was nice to have a moment of solitude, where no one was touching her or making her dance. Or worse yet talk about some silly political melodrama meant to tarnish her, with an actual opinion. Rolling her neck, she was thankful for the handful of snaps and pops that eased the tension. Nearly a half pound of pins and crystals littered her hair to keep it up upon her head. She fought the urge to begin pulling them out, one by one. Resting her hands on the smooth, cold marble she relished the heat leaving through her palms. 

Cullen had witnessed the ball pick up as if nothing had occurred. No major coup, no blood splattered in more areas of the palace then he dared think of. How easily it was for them to get their men in. It should have been a clue in to him that others may have as easy a time. Causalities were limited, and he was thankful for that. None of his men were lost, and he was sure to check. Some injured and being treated by Solas in the wings, before sending them by carriage away. 

Keeping his eyes peeled for any remaining Venatori forces, he was confident in their position. Many of the Chevaliers had complimented the training of his men and he couldn’t quite hide his pride. Standing taller, he watched the men and women return to the dance floor, thinly smeared blood stains barely present. “Commander Cullen?” Two Chevaliers in full plate mail stood before him, “under orders of the Empress we are to give you and your people quarters for the night. The Empress and Ambassador Briala wish to discuss war tactics in the morning.”

“Very well, Ambassador Josephine can handle all arrangements. She was last in the main hall.” Cullen internally groaned. He didn’t want to spend another moment in the palace, all these wicked eyes with their wicked hearts glaring at him. Sizing up his qualities and measuring him on appearances, but it seemed he had little choice.

As the men turned to hunt down Josephine, he knew he needed to find Diana and let her know. Right then he realized he’d lost sight of her. Somehow, she’d slipped away in the crowd of people. He scanned the room, searching for that brightly coloured red billowing dress, but it was no where to be seen. He noticed Lady Morrigan casually strolling towards the balcony across the room from him and he put his last copper in it, that she was heading to see the Inquisitor. All he needed to do was make his way through the crowds and to the balcony. Easier said than done. Still nipping at his heels were the women who proclaimed him their personal savior. They had also offered to repay him, in darker corners. A younger, brasher rogue would have taken up the women on their scandalous offer, but Cullen was wiser. ‘Ladies, it has been a pleasure, but the Inquisitor requires me. I have important information for her. Forgive me,” bowing politely he managed to escape the teary-eyed girls. 

Calmly as he could he marched towards the balcony, excusing himself along the way. By the time he cleared the hordes of people he walked by Morrigan, quirking an eyebrow as she passed he wasn’t too sure what to make of the secretive woman. Taking that first step on the balcony was a like being caught in the first rain after a drought. Cool, refreshing and something that brought life back to tired eyes and weary hearts. Seeing her, leaning casually over the rail didn’t take away from the general effect. 

“I was wondering when you’d come find me,” her sweet voice caught him off guard as he tried to quietly pad across the marble to her side. Leaning on his elbow he looked her over, not a hair out of place, not a single smear of her ruby lips. “Are you alright, Diana?” It was pure instinct for him to reach out and caress her shoulder, wishing it was his bare palm and not the thick leather gloves.

“I’m bored, Cullen,” she sighed, flicking a stone over the edge and watching it splash in a pond in the gardens below. “This is all so boring, and tedious, and high-born.” She snorted the last word like it was a bit of foul food touching her delicate pallet.

“I hate to add to your burden, but we have been invited to stay the night. By the Empress and Ambassador. They wish to discuss aid come morning, I am assuming in person.” Cullen looked over the night sky, crystal clear and unconcerned about the drama below. 

Groaning she took his hand in hers, “thank you, for coming to find me. It… it means a lot.” 

He could see it, feel it. Her smile wasn’t the waxy noble’s grin she wore when addressing her peers. This was real, honest and showed how raw she was at that moment. It was then the idea hit him. Why he was even considering it, he knew better. Especially after having seen her sweep the entire room off their feet with Florianne. Taking a full step back, he tucked one arm behind himself. Like a true knight in those classic stories he read late at night. Bowing he extended his hand, “my lady, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?” 

She was stunned. Actually, stunned as she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her into an embrace. “I thought you said templars don’t dance.”

Coyly smiling he chuckled as he wound his hand around to her, splaying it along the small of her back. “I am no templar.” 

Sighing heavily, she enjoyed the surprise, the heat of his chest building up and passing into her. His steps were smooth, and basic as his hips swayed to the music coming from the party inside. For his size and usual line of work he was light on his feet. Mindful that he wouldn’t step upon her toes. 

Together they danced, nearly cheek to cheek under the canopy of twinkling stars. A silent witness to the pure chemistry that resonated between the two unlikely lovers. Each enjoying the quiet contact as the music played on. It wasn’t long before Diana leaned up, “take me to bed, Cullen.”

“Here?” He knew what those eyes had planned, and he wasn’t really against it. Her silent nod was all the information he needed. Breaking their hold, he marched her back through the ball room, just at the Empress was making a small speech, the evening coming to a close. 

Both listened to what little of a speech it was, Celene visibly tired and the crowd’s energy sapping low. Adrenaline and wine in short supply. Guards were helping people get to carriages and others to the guest wing of the sprawling palace. Cullen followed the set that came to claim them. Keeping tight to Diana but aware of those around he guided her with the Chevalier down the halls and passages until they reached the block of rooms assigned to the Inquisition. “Inquisitor, Commander, your rooms.” Taking the keys from the guard he nodded, before turning to see Diana open the last door at the end of the corridor. 

Quickening his step, he popped into the room, “Diana, your key…” 

She had busily tugged free her gown, standing in a delicate lace pair of smalls, barely covering her backside. Whatever that was clinging to her body that covered her chest it was like a second skin. Standing before a dressing mirror she was plucking pin after pin from her hair, tossing them into a wooden box before her. “I apologize, old habits die hard.” Smiling she didn’t break in her movements. Taking her hair from the overly worked mass of coils and braids on her head, back to her usual cascade of scarlet curls. “They tend to treat nobles with the white glove. Best to imprint a high approval, make them pliable. If you look around we have everything in this room. Including a very expensive bottle of bubbling wine on the desk.” 

Turning the latch, he locked the door, “is it safe to be here, to do this?” His hands worked the buckles of his jacket, providing him the relief he was yearning for since he put it on. Feeling the pressure release from around his neck, his shoulders naturally softened. At that moment he realized how tense he had been through the evening. Every muscle in his neck and shoulders were crying. Reaching up he began rubbing at the knots and tight span of thick fibrous muscle. All while watching Diana.

“Safe? In the Winter Palace nothing is safe. But we are shielded here tonight. I am the saviour of her Majesty and she would be foolish to try to hinder me when Corypheus bays at her door. Tonight, we are friend and family. In time, this may very well be a death trap.” Tossing the last pin into the box she sighed. “It’s always the same, and always so predictable.”

Not entirely sure what Diana meant he half dragged himself to the bed. Sitting on the edge as he worked with the ties to his boots. “I was worried for you tonight. The whispers and then your grand entrance. I wasn’t sure you would be safe.” 

Laughing she turned to see him, toeing off the last boot, “then you definitely don’t want to hear about how we sprang Florianne’s little trap.” Toying with the edge of the corset piece she nodded, “yes you’ll just have to read about it in my report.” Strutting towards him, she pushed him back on the bed, as he had just begun untying further laces upon his shirt. “I need you,” sending her fancy, heeled shoes sailing she mounted the bed, knees on either side of him as she wrenched his shirt free from his pants.

“Diana, you aren’t entirely quiet,” he barely got the words out as she nearly ripped the thin linen shirt, before pulling it over his head. Flopping back down on the bed, he closed his eyes and bathed in the silken feel of her lotion softened hands pawing at his chest. Toying with the spirals of golden hair. Her fingers nails just teasing a hint of pressure as she ran them lower before feverously working the knots of his trousers. 

“There are pillows here, and that delicious shoulder of yours.” Leaning over him she kissed his neck, trailing her lips down to his shoulder where she nipped him, sinking her teeth down until he let out a groaning grunt. Running her tongue over the blooming red mark she snickered, “perhaps, you are too loud.”

Feeling the swelling upon his shoulder beginning to set it, he never realized how much that stinging pain heightened things. Diana pushed it to the edge and always drew back just before it was uncomfortable or painful. “I can be silent. Our host may not be happy with the mess. Let’s not even talk about the Commander coming out of the Inquisitor’s chambers for breakfast.”


	4. Letting Go

“Let them talk. I’ll have them dancing in circles, chasing their tails faster than you can say, Maker’s breath.” Pulling the last string loose she slid her hand into his pants, cupping him.

“Maker’s breath!” It was blissful contact, as her fingers hooked into his smalls and pulled them down enough to free him from their tight confines. “Are… ah… you… sure…” Her fingers skimmed the sensitive skin, rubbing and working the dampness about. Slickening him. 

Stopping her movements, she giggled, “I am. Let me make it clear for you, Commander.” Slithering down his body she dropped between his legs, removing his smalls and pants. Tossing them over her shoulder she didn’t hesitate. 

“Diana… AH!” His moan was far louder than he wanted to be, and he slapped his hands over his mouth in a hurry. Warm, wet and velvety, her tongue ran up his balls to the base of his cock. Before she continued to kiss, lick and graze the overly delicate shaft. She toyed with him, her tongue playing in circles over the heated head as her hand stroked him, painfully slow. When he bucked his hips, she swallowed him and again he was roaring into his hands. 

Humming about him, she sucked hard before pulling him free with a loud pop, “knew you couldn’t be quiet.” 

Panting heavily, he was trembling, far too close to the edge and he wanted to bury himself in her. As deeply as he could, but he knew it wouldn’t last and he also needed her to scream out too. Sitting up sharply he grabbed her. Pulled her up onto the bed and pinned her down, “turn about it always fair play. Take off that corset,” he motioned, as he pulled the fragile looking ribbons of her smalls. Ripping them free he discarded them over his shoulder as the corset piece flew over his head. Grinning he pushed her back down, enjoying the heavy bounce of her free breasts as she collapsed into the pile of heavy blankets. 

Seated between her legs, his cock stiff and throbbing he could smell how aroused she was. Smell the heady blend of sweat and sex lingering about him. Pushing her legs wider he eyed his goal, kissing and tease as he went before mercilessly plunging his tongue into her molten core. 

She went to cry out, but her knuckles were firmly pressed between her teeth. There was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of hearing her so easily. His tongue worked its little dance, teasing and plying at her flesh until she was a trembling mess. Hips jittering against his tongue as she whined higher and higher, her teeth turning the flesh of her hand into a bruised mess. He was too much, too Maker blessed good at what he was doing. 

Thick, heavy and unmoveable, he held her down with his arm, clamped firmly over her pelvis. Flicking his tongue back and forth, lashing at her pearl, he could feel she was almost there. Pressing his lips against her he hummed, his lips vibrating as finally she gave in. Her moan echoed throughout the chamber and he was more than pleased as her back arched off the bed. Taking slower, long, licks with his tongue he rode her through her climax. When her whine changed, he gave a final blow of cool air across the nib watching her back arch wildly off the bed before sitting up. Wiping his face on his forearm he laughed, “now who’s too loud?”

Diana giggled as she tried to lift her head. Everything was warm, and her limbs felt like mush. “You win, and damnit you won.” Laughing again she sucked in her bottom lip. “Come to me. I want to feel you inside me.” 

“I won’t last long, you are too much.” Cullen climbed the blankets, angling his hips towards her entrance. “I want to savour you.” Gliding into her, taking each inch with care, he leaned down to hold her to himself before sitting back upon his heels. “I want to make love to you.” 

Cloudy. Everything was so cloudy as the tears welled in her eyes. His lips were at her neck, kissing and uttering such beautiful words. His hips rocked her gently, taking his time, while his hands caressed her skin. With everything being so sensitive, she was lost in the sea. Drowning in all the waves that crashed into her. He was truly too much. Giving, kind, sweet and understanding. Things she’d never experienced before and when he told her how important she was to him, it was like the Maker was singing for her. 

It was like he had wanted. Exactly as he wanted. Her quiet sighs and the rumble that spread through her chest as he kissed her neck, took him closer to that edge. Far closer than he was prepared for. When it overcame him he was shocked, more so when she pressed her forehead against his. “Diana,” he let out a soft airy growl that rumbled through both of their chests. As he reached his apex, Diana joined him. Her exhaling mewl just filled the air between them. 

Foreheads resting against each other she was shocked by all of it. She’d managed to blink the tears away as he tenderly laid her in bed, “I hate to leave, and Maker knows I don’t want to, but…”

“I know,” she tried to smile but the edges didn’t want to curl up properly. They twitched and fell back down. “I’m fine.” 

Those last words hit him like a shield bash right in the mouth. “Diana, talk to me. Something isn’t right,” sitting next to her, he stroked her hair from her face. 

“Old memories, nothing more.” Taking his hand, she kissed his palm. 

Shaking his head, he was still trying to catch his breath, “talk to me. I heard from a very bright woman, that it helps.”

Drawing the blanket up around her she let a single tear fall, “do you remember that story, in the tavern the other day?”

“Yes, the giant and the man in the alley,” he cozied in beside her, wrapping himself around her.

“I lied. There was no happy ending for Verena. I was young, immature and I thought I knew it all. Thought I know what was best and had the right to make that call when and if I wanted to.” Shaking her head bitter tears welled up into her eyes. “Verena was a sweet girl, funny, kind and always one to help the little orphan kids. With the nobility near by you shouldn’t be surprised at the amount of unwanted bastards left at the Chantry doors. When I came back into town, a couple days later, I asked about for her. I hadn’t seen her in a while and I had brought with me some coin for the children. I got nothing but sad faces and told to see the Chantry board. I calmly did that, thinking nothing of it.”

“She was dead, wasn’t she,” Cullen gripped her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“Worse. They left her to bleed out in the same alley. With a warning that with Giant Bait’s gang gone. That his new group had moved into the area. Another small band of rogues. I lost my mind Cullen. I… I tracked them down. Every last one of them. And I killed them. I killed them all.”

“You…” he was swallowing hard now, trying to wrap his head around the effort involved and life lost.

“It was a mistake. A fit of rage that earned me a street name I couldn’t bare. It also resulted in the larger gang, waiting for the two to destroy each other, to come in. It made nothing better. I learned a few lessons that day. There is always a bigger fish, and getting emotionally invested is foolish. A chemical defect of the losing side. You see,” she squeezed his hand, helping her get through this moment. “I loved Verena, like the sister I never had. Killing those men, some slowly, didn’t bring her back. Their deaths didn’t make the town a safer place. It made it worse. Love, ruined everything Cullen….”

There. It all made sense right there. Cullen knew what she was trying to say, what she couldn’t say. “Diana, did you want me to leave?” His voice was firm and calm, as he continued to hold her securely.

“No,” the tears streamed down her face, pouring over her and washing away everything that haunted her. Burying her face into his chest she sobbed heavily. Tears that hadn’t fallen before. She hadn’t cried at the pyre for Verena. Hadn’t shed a tear. Didn’t cry when she tortured and killed the gang. Never blinked as she slaughtered them down to the last one. Now, it was all coming free. Sniffling hard she shook her head, “you… need to go. If… if we’re caught.”

“To the Void with them all,” Cullen snorted, “you need me right now, and I won’t leave you like this.”

Shooting up she looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. “I… I don’t know what to do with you Cullen. You aren’t like any man I’ve ever met before.”

“You said it before, in my office. We all have dirty hands that we wish to wash clean.” Kissing her forehead, he pulled her back into himself. “Perhaps, I should speak as well. Misery does love its company and I would feel wrong not to share my memories as well.”


	5. Not so Secret

Hours flew by and Diana’s tears dried as she held onto him, hearing each horrid detail of the events that forever changed his life. A young man, no older than eighteen years being tortured and haunted by abominations. She had never seen one, and by the shaking of his hands she was more than grateful for it. She stroked his hands, drew calming patterns upon his chest as he spoke, as he shook. Yet he carried on, braving each word as it threatened to break him. By the way he mumbled the words out, she knew this was the only time these words had ever left his lips. This burden upon the fabric of his being having worked its way finally to the surface. Once, and only once, did she feel the tiny, warm wet drop that dripped down off his cheek. 

When he was done, he kissed her again, soft and caring before rising to dress. “I shall be here, first thing in the morning to take you to the talks. Then, we will leave for Skyhold.”  
“It is a journey. How do we go about this? I know you are a private man, and I do not relish the attentions of others either.” Diana snuggled into the bed, propped up on a small mountain of pillows. 

Grinning he had just the idea, “come at me, as you used to. Everyone can think I hate you and you loathe me. What we do behind doors, what we are, is our business.” Buttoning his jacket, he grinned, “a little tension has never harmed us in the past.”

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, I never knew you had it in you,” purring she tried to stifle the yawn creeping over her. “Get to bed, with such language you will need your strength.”   
“Oh, I intend to bark back, my lady. Have no doubt about that.” Securing his last boot and checking his hair quickly he smirked as he went for the door, “you best rest as well too. Maker knows you will be busy, morning and night.” Closing the door behind himself he breathed in deeply, scanning the corridor to see guards at the end of the hall. Crossing to the other side he opened the door. Nearly identical rooms. Locking the door behind himself he went about undressing. Come morning he would have to get to her room. He would have to jump back into the role of Commander, and he wasn’t perfectly happy with it. Yet, what other choice did he have? The talk in the barracks would spread like wild fire and there would be little privacy then. Relegating himself to the now, he got to bed. 

Diana slipped into the Fade quickly, dreaming as she did of something softer than her horrors. It was foreign to her, to wake come morning refreshed and alert. Fresh clothes had been brought to her room, something less cumbersome than her ball gown. In that essence her gown was missing, not that it wasn’t out of place. She knew it was customary to provide guest with clean attire and wash or pack their belongings to prepare them to leave. Dressing, she heard his firm knock upon her door, “enter.” She braided her scarlet billows into a thick plait pinning it up in a coil upon her head, using the pins from last night.

“The Empress is awaiting us, and guards are set to make us known. Shockingly it is in the ball room, at the negotiation table. She had a flare for the dramatic.” Cullen scoffed as Leliana and Josephine joined them. 

“It is customary to use your playing field to your advantage,” Diana grinned. “She is trying to use the scene of her rescue as a subtle hint that she is thankful and will bend only so far. At the end of the day, she is the sun and the moon to Orlais and Orlais only.” 

Josephine nodded, “the Inquisitor is right. We cannot be heavy handed in this, and must maintain a careful step. Our favour will only get us so much and we should not ask for more.”

“I have gathered enough secrets and whispers to make use of back at Skyhold. Let us be done here, these walls have far too many ears and eyes,” Leliana nodded to Josephine.  
“Let’s get this done,” Diana pushed the last pin in, securing her coil and with a smile followed them all towards the ball room. 

Pristine. That was the only thought that popped into Cullen’s head. Any trace of the murder, and treason attempt were washed away in the night. The negotiation table had been flipped on it’s side, wine and food sent scattering about the floor. Blood and gore drenching the chairs as Venatori agents were cut down before they could harm a sole. There were hint at the damage and carnage of the night. Curtains with slash marks, some chairs with chunks missing. Other than the slightest hint, it was clean.

“Inquisitor, did you rest well last night? We are most gracious you and your people stayed with us.” Celene bowed, her finger tips looped together, a new mask from last night.   
“I slept better than I have in many nights, your Grace. I am pleased to see you this morning,” Diana bowed deeply, before taking a seat at the table. “Wonderful to see you as well Ambassador Briala.” 

Briala tipped her head to Diana, and didn’t utter another word. Celene began speaking, offering Chevaliers, money and the use of her bases throughout Orlais in order to subvert Corypheus. It was then that Briala, directly offered her network to Leliana. From there, Celene had a scribe write up some documents and Josephine went through it. Smiling she tipped her head to Diana, “I believe then we are prepared to leave. Our items are waiting in a carriage?” Diana’s smile never faltered or changed as she rose from the table.

“Of course. We have also had our cooks pack a bit of food to travel with. Our guests are well taken care of,” Celene waved to an orderly who dashed away down the hall. Rising she walked the group down the main staircase to the front gates. All the time speaking of the night before and how pleased she was that Diana had stopped Florianne. Diana was cautious and maintained her composure as they reacted the gate, “you are most gracious, and we appreciate your efforts, your Grace. The Inquisition looks forward to being together in the ending of this Tevinter threat.” Bowing again she caught the faint hint of a smile from Celene. “Ambassador Josephine will field any and all questions or concerns you may have. I will do my best to maintain strong relations with the jewel of Thedas.” She was buttering her up and Celene was enjoying it.

“We will remember such kind words. Go now, and make haste to Skyhold, Inquisitor. The fate of Thedas seems to rest in your hand.” Celene’s eyes lifted to the soft glowing mark.   
Bowing once more Diana waited for her people to load onto the carriage, being sure to climb aboard last. As the carriage rattled down the road, she didn’t look back. Her team chatting away, she calmly went over the large to do list when she got back to Skyhold. 

Josephine rambled on about the efforts and papers as she read through each document again. It was fair, surprisingly so, even to Josephine. Diana expected nothing less, “she owes us her life, this is her equalling out the debt. Be wary moving forward.” Diana warned as the carriage came to the first stop. Switching out to fresh horses, they would arrive at Skyhold just before nightfall. 

As the carriage clattered over the bridge, Diana snickered, “be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”

Dorian smirked, “yes, and a good bottle of wine awaiting me too. This whole event has been rather interesting.” 

“You loved it. Fine wine, chatty and gropey men and women, delicate cakes and foods. It even had blood and death. I dare to ask if you are homesick.” Diana giggled as Dorian’s grin turned into a chiding snort before he too joined her in a good hearty laugh. 

As everyone disembarked from the ride, Diana clapped her hands, “everyone get some rest, tomorrow, is tomorrow. Thank you all for your efforts.” Watching everyone leave, Diana calmly strolled to her chambers. There was work to do, including a trip to the Shrine of Dumat in a couple days. She’d need time for everyone to recover and relax. No need to rush out there when they knew so little of the situation. Getting to her chamber, she stopped a servant and requested water for the tub, food and drink. 

Getting to her room, she set up the tub, and cleared a spot on her desk. As she finished the latch clicked, “the tub is set up, place the tray on my desk then take the rest of the evening off. I have a small coin purse for you.” 

“Is that how you greet everyone?” Cullen chuckled as he rounded the last step. 

Laughing she shook her head, “no, just the team of people who will be by in a moment to do what I stated. Duck in the closet over there. Quickly, they’re coming up!” Pushing him towards the room she shut the door behind him. A flurry of servants moved quickly to fill her request and she repeated her words before the sound of foot steps rushing down her stairs filled the room once more. Popping the door open, Diana laughed, “close, Commander. If this is your idea of privacy, it isn’t going to be private very long.”  
“I actually came up here to speak with you about that,” awkwardly he rubbed his hands together, trying not to touch his neck.

Taking her hair pins out she shrugged her shoulders, “best join me for a soak then. I do my best thinking when wet.” Each pin made a sharp pinging sound as it tumbled into a tin cup. 

“Alright,” beginning to remove his clothes he continued to watch her. The slow dedication to her hair, her clothes, all while inside the woman he cared for was crying. Such a hard shell, held such a fragile thing inside. No one would have ever guess she was like this, and perhaps that is why she did what she did. Why everyone thought she was a complete icy bitch. Folding his clothes into a neat pile he stepped into the tub, “Maker, this is…”

“Grand,” Diana smiled. She had finished removing the last pin and was untwining her braid. Kicking off her boots she giggled, “it really is good to be here, home, I suppose.”

“You do not wish to return to the Trevelyan home, once this is all done?” Cullen leaned forward in the tub, grabbing some soap. 

Sliding off her leggings and smalls, she strode towards the bed, as she haphazardly removed her top and corset piece. “It is and never was home to me,” sinking behind Cullen she began rubbing his shoulders and back. “I have no home of my own.”

Her hands were working the muscles of his neck and upper back, “I… I’m sorry.”

“I had a dream once. A dream of building my own home, with my own hands. Finding a little bit of land for myself, maybe start a farm. It seems childish now, especially when my left hand is a night light.” Diana tried to chuckle, but her usual mirth fell flat.

“I gave everything up when I became a templar. Family, love, a chance at life.” Hanging his head, he let her run her hands over his neck and into his hair. “Outside of the Inquisition I have no title.”

Pressing open mouth kisses to his back she grinned, “that is what makes you lucky. I envy you, Cullen. A simple life, no noble title or lord demanding you play this role or another. It sounds perfect.”

“You are welcome to join me, afterwards,” his voice was strong and unwavering, confident in his guess about her. But her silence, and the sudden stop of her touch made him second guess. “I mean… you don’t have to… I… it was foolish of me…”

“That is the nicest… I’d would in a heart beat,” her voice was shaky now. He hadn’t realized what he had offered her or how tempting it was. 

Water sloshed about, and he felt her move from behind him. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was up to until she was sitting in his lap, a wide grin over her lips. Settling over his hips, she took his face in her hands, “like water to a thirsty fool. I don’t know if I can believe you Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

“Believe me? Why Diana….”

“Inquisitor!” Josephine’s voice lifted through the room and caught both of them off guard.

Trying to sound her usual Inquisitor self, Diana cleared her throat, “I’m in the bath Josie, what did you need?”

There was no sound of latches or movement when Josephine answered back, “then I shall let you relax this evening. Did you read the letter upon your desk the other day? About the Comte?”

“Yes, and my answer is a resounding no.”

“I see. Well, he wishes to hear it from your lips and shall be here by evening tomorrow.” Josephine’s voice was matter of fact as she spoke. “Have a good evening Inquisitor. You too Commander.” Her snickering voice carried up that stairway and seemed to settle between the two. 

As Josephine’s steps faded away, Diana burst into laughter, Cullen’s face twisted in a look of horror, “so much for private.”


	6. Proposal

His heated hand came down upon her backside with a firm swat. Rubbing the swelling bloom, they both were panting and uttering sinful groans. “Not very private at all Commander,” she gasped bathing in the sting and soothing heat from his hand. “I don’t think you want to be private, Commander.”

Thrusting into her harder, burying her in the pillows of the bed he roared, “I want to fuck you on the throne, debase you in front of a crowd of noble bastards. Show them no one else will have you.” He was lost in her heat, driving into her depths and having already brought her to climax twice he was delving into his out carnal wants. 

“Oh?” reaching between her legs she rubbed small, quick circles over her pearl, “I’m almost there.”

“Fuck,” Cullen groaned, he was there. “I’m…”

Together. They both came crashing down together. Piled in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs and matted hair. Diana giggled as his stubbly face scrapped along her back. Sighing she rolled over, giving him a playful shove, “you are no light weight Cullen.”

Taking in deep breathes Cullen tried to calm his racing heart, “I apologize, Princess.”

“Oh,” slapping his shoulder she giggled again. “Using Varric’s little nickname on me now? Playing dirty Commander.” 

“I’m playing dirty? You still haven’t answered my questions about this Comte and letter.” Tugging her in close he drew the blankets over them. 

Awkwardly snuggling in she tried to play it off. “A marriage proposal. Nothing more.”

“MARRIAGE!” The word tore from his chest. “What do you mean marriage request? Wait, you knew about this before we left to the Winter Palace!” He shuffled a bit away from her, unsure of what was going on.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled him back, “its nothing. I’ve dealt with this before and will continue to deal with it. Come tomorrow, he will arrive, and I will duel him. He’ll leave in complete defeat and that will be the end of that.” Stroking his arm, she curled into him, resting her head upon his chest. “I am no prize to be claimed.” 

Letting her cozy in, he sighed, “Diana you cannot duel your way out of each offer. Orlais will send more, more Comtes will come. What of your parents?” 

Leaning heavily upon his chest she groaned, “my father doesn’t care. I am the last one remember? He has his heir, his spare and I’m the one who should have never been there.” Playing with the edge of the blanket the words were cold, icy and painful. Repeated to her for many years and uttered now in the same disgust she had bared witness to. “My parents won’t interfere. They have the joy of claiming the Inquisitor as their kin. They have no urge to upset that title. I hope they wouldn’t be so foolish as to do something like that. They know what I am capable of.” 

“Diana,” he took her hands in his and tenderly rubbed, easing her nervous energy. “If there is anything, anything at all I can do…”

“Hush,” pulling her hand away she placed a careful finger over his lips. “Don’t make a girl a promise you can’t keep.” Sighing she shook her head, “I will deal with it. I will face whatever consequences that lay ahead. Have faith, farm boy.” 

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help feeling like this wasn’t going to end well. That this wasn’t going to be as easy as she claimed. “Then if you plan on dueling tomorrow, we should get some sleep. You will need to be at your best.” 

“Now that is an idea I can get behind,” closing her eyes she yawned. “good night Cully.”

Chuckling he tucked the blanket about her neck, “rest well, champion.” 

Come morning she woke to a full tray of food upon her desk, and a lovely note from Cullen. He had to get to work, missing a few days training his troops had bothered him. She took her time. Preparing, and eating well. The bottom of the note made her giggle, “have no worries, I feasted before dressing and heading to train. I won’t be able to keep up with your energy otherwise.” 

“Inquisitor?” Josephine’s voice filtered up to her ears and she was in no mood to deal with pleasantries. Calling for her to come in she tossed the letter in the fireplace. Careful that it didn’t fall into unsafe hands. Seeing Josephine crest the top of the stairway she shook her head, “if you have come here to dissuade me from dueling the Comte…”

“No, I came to let you know about him.” Standing before the fire, Josephine warmed her hands. “He is a decorated man. He’s won nearly all of his duels and he has never been beaten before.” 

Snorting, Diana rolled her eyes, “posh and unreliable. Anything else? Or do you plan on lecturing me on his eating habits as well?” 

“No such thing,” Josephine sighed. “Only one important thing. He claims your father had given him the right to your hand.” 

“Bullshit!” Diana shot up. “I don’t believe a fucking word of it!” 

“Neither do I,” Josephine smirked. “I have done my work, and I have never heard of this Comte before. Ever. The claims he makes could easily be vetted out, if we had the time. But he has tried to take us by surprise, and Leliana is not pleased.” Beginning to scribble away Josephine didn’t bother to look up, already aware of how angry Diana now was. “Based on your history, they never interceded with suitors before. I doubt now, they would wish to publicly spur the ire of the Inquisitor.”

Diana was clenching her fist tightly, “I will turn him into a pile of…”

“No. Leliana sent me up here to discuss this with you. She isn’t sure if this man is working alone or with others. We are going to extend the welcoming arms of the Inquisition to him. Wine him and dine him, to see who he is. Your duel will have to wait till tomorrow at the earliest.” Josephine caught the glare shot at her. “He could be an agent of Corypheus, sent to sow chaos. We must be sure who he is and what he wants.”

Growling Diana folded her arms tightly, “I will play along for one day. One day and not a moment longer. I have business that needs my attention. The Shrine of Dumat will not remain Samson’s hideaway forever. We cannot let him slip through our fingers.”

“Cullen cannot bare it and therefore you cannot. I understand, and I stand by this. I do, but it must be private, and we must learn who this man is. One day will be enough for Leliana. Then you may reduce the man to a muttering mess of apologizes and bruises.” Josephine finished her note and nodded. “Leliana will wish to speak with you and inform you of her findings.” Bowing she shook her head, “I’m sorry Diana.”

“Not as much as he will be.” Diana gripped her desk chair tightly, her knuckles white under her gloves. “I shall be down soon. Give me a moment to compose myself, please.”

“Of course,” Josephine turned and disappeared quietly down the steps. 

Diana was raging, seething with anger. An anger she had thought long buried and long dealt with. No instead it was as if not a second had past since her exile from the family manor. Of course, being caught with two farmhands, in the hay may have been the last line for Ulrich. She hadn’t heard a word from either Ulrich or Lady Emily. Not a single written page. She was confident that whomever this man was he was not sent from her parents. Nor did he have their blessing. Who could this man be? 

Brush her coils she wasn’t going to get to duel today, and that already upset her. Pinning only a few sections back, she let her scarlet coils flow down her back. Tugging on her gloves back on she grumbled over the last few letters on her desk. Having to make judgements on this, someone required her immediate attention and requests for council. The last letter had her jaw vibrating. “With the victory in Val Royeux, the nobles are calling for a ball to celebrate. I have gone ahead with preparation since you will be away and busy tracking down Samson.” Closing her eyes tightly she balled it up and threw it into the fire. “I do not need anymore nobles after today.” 

“I am sincerely thankful to the Empress for having sent you and your men in order to train and aid us.” Cullen was chewing the inside of his lip and Josephine spoke calmly with the man before them. Full Orlesian plate mail, shined to an impossible level. Including a full face covering helm. “Our Commander here is more than capable of training the men, and has done so.”

Cullen smiled politely, “Ser, if you wish to watch or run your own training, perhaps we can find a compromise.” He wanted nothing more than to tell the man to stick his Chevalier training up his shiny ass, but even he was aware that they needed the bodies. Needed the men as well trained as possible. 

“That sounds like a fair assessment, Commander. We are not here to overstep you and take control. We were sent to lend aid wherever we could.” 

“Then let us set up some light drills. If you are prepared, the recruits might learn something.” Cullen had a stroke of brilliance. He could have these men work on some drills and he could slip off to grab some much-needed lunch. With the lyrium withdrawals starting to subside, he found his appetite return in full force.

Getting the men set up and the recruits prepared he turned to Lysette, “I’m putting you in charge of this drill with our new Orlesian allies.”

“You won’t be watching?” Lysette’s eyebrows drew up in protest.

Cullen barely noticed, “I have some papers I need to attend to and Josephine needed my attentions. If you have issue, send a messenger.” Patting her on the shoulder he smiled, “I have faith you can manage this task, or I would not leave you to it.” 

Lysette’s cheeks flushed softly as she nodded in return, “of course Commander.”

Leaving her quickly he hurried to his tower, stopping to get a servant to bring him a meal. Once inside he went over the papers on his desk. When the first messenger came in, he informed them to speak with Josephine and that he was in his tower, working upon his lunch. As his tray arrived he set about satisfying his stomach. 

Diana growled plunging her blade into the thick, meat of the training dummy, “this, is ridiculous Cass. How am I to deal with such out right… arr!” Yelling again she wrenched the blade free. 

“I’m sure Leliana is looking into it and will have answers soon enough. You should not attack the training dummy so. Your blade may get damaged.” Cassandra carefully took the sword from Diana’s hand and inspected the blade. Sighing she nodded, “too late. It appears the metal is chipped. You’ll have to have the blacksmith forge a new one.” 

This just furthered to enrage Diana. “I cannot catch a break today. First this Comte, then a ball, here! Now my blade… will nothing go right for me today!”

Loud and clear, at that moment the signal horn blew. Someone was crossing the bridge to Skyhold and she could feel it in her bones. It was this so-called Comte. Turning to look at Cassandra she shook her head, “I’m going to the… my blade requires immediate repair.”

“What do you mean we are throwing a soiree? Here? At Skyhold?” Cullen’s voice broke and cracked as he uttered the last word. It was his home, a safe place from the prying and devilish eyes of the nobility. Now they were going to be here. With their pinching fingers, and poison tongues. 

Huffing Josephine pulled a small stack of papers from her writing board, “yes. Here is the complete list of guests, their servants and the like. If you want further information on them, Leliana has plenty on every name on those papers.” 

“But why Josephine? Was the Winter Palace not enough? Did we fail at something?” He was confused to say the least. They had gained an ally, soldiers and supplies. Was that not enough? 

“Because the nobility clamour for it. Because it is a chance to top the coffers and be secure in supplies. Outfitting an entire army is not cheap, and while our stores are high, we cannot guarantee they will stay that way. A small two-day soiree will make everyone happy, and increase what we need.” Scribbling away on her board she stopped. Sighing deeply, she looked him in the eyes, “I know this is unpleasant for you, to say the least. But it is for the Inquisition and all favors have their purpose. Just two days Commander, and your tower is off limits to non-personnel.” 

“Welcome to Skyhold Comte Laurier,” Leliana smiled politely as she focused her eyes on every move the man made.


	7. There is no Home

“Thank you for personally greeting me, Nightingale. It is an honor,” sweeping his arm across, he dipped into a bow. 

He didn’t wear the customary mask of the Orlesian nobles and that wasn’t the only thing off about him. His accent clearly wasn’t Orlesian either. His accent was more Marcher and while he carried himself proud and tall he didn’t have the air of nobility over him. “Why don’t I give you the tour and help set you up in some quarters. Your trip has been long, no?” Leliana’s face remained the picture of pleasant hostess all while her eyes and mind were going over the new information. 

Showing him through the main grounds she pointed out the stables, introduced him to Master Dennet and even Blackwall. Most of Diana’s companions were used to the constant parade of nobles and to their knowledge this was no different. Each visit to each location, Leliana was watching, learning. By the end she had a grin on her lips as wide as her cheeks would allow. “These will be your quarters for the night. Our tavern is open to you at any time for drink and food. Do you have any questions, Comte Laurier?”

“None, thank you. I believe I can navigate around on my own well enough. Will I be able to see my fiancée tonight? I understand the Inquisitor can be rather busy.” His face didn’t show any change and his voice remained solid and unwavering. 

“She will be busy. Ambassador Josephine and the Inquisitor are working on a soiree for Skyhold. Josephine has fit in a time tomorrow for you to properly meet with the Inquisitor.” Grinning again she dipped her head, “good evening Comte.”

It was dark out by the time Leliana joined Josephine in Cullen’s tower. Their small meeting over the invitation list had grown into a full on afternoon worth of information. Talking amongst themselves about the visiting Comte, Cullen wasn’t happy, “if he isn’t who he claims to be, simply throw him out!” Roaring his neck was red and the vein throbbed heavily.

“I think she knows him, or will remember him once she sees him. A Marcher’s accent, seeking her hand, and at this time. I think she will deal with him just fine and we have little to worry about.” Leliana smiled, “calm yourself Cullen. Your jealousy is showing.”

“I am not jealous,” crossing his arms tightly his vambraces scratched along his breast plate. “I am being protective,” sighing he relaxed his arms, “and perhaps a bit possessive.”

“That is the truth,” Diana chuckled strolling in through the doors, “but I rather adore it from you. Only, you.” Smirking she turned her attentions to the two women, “what news do you bring me of our newest guest of honor?” 

“He isn’t Orlesian, he’s a Marcher.” Leliana quirked her eye over at Diana as she came to lean against Cullen’s desk. “I think you may know him.”

“Describe him. Leave out no detail,” Diana folder her arms and closed her eyes, listening to every word.

Leliana began her description. Tall, the same height as Cullen but less bulky. Dark raven hair, cropped short, more like Cullen, but straight not styled. He had freckles that covered his face and a perfect smile. High cheek bones, and a sharp chin. His nose was softer, and less pronounced than his other features. But it was the eyes that caused Diana to snap herself up. Vibrant, unshakable nearly white, pale grey. With distinctive flecks of forest green. The most unique eyes Leliana had ever seen. 

“I know him for sure. He’s a local from Ostwick, and I thought a friend. Shit head.” Shaking her head, she laughed. “Of course, he would fake a marriage proposal. I bet he’s trying to get a damn good rise out of me. Well he won on that one.” 

“What!?” Cullen sputtered looking over the group as Diana chuckled to herself.

Waving her hand, she shook her head, “have no fear Commander. He will not be marrying anyone. He isn’t noble at all. He’s a damn grifter at best. Loves to pretend to be Lord so and so. He gets access to the place and steals anything not melted to the floor. We worked together a few times, he saved my skin once. I saved his a few dozen. He owes me, if I remember right.” Tapping her finger against her chin, she nodded, “ya he does, fifty sovereigns.”

Cullen sat there, dumbstruck as Leliana spoke up, “we need to have security watch him if there is a threat he may…”

“No good,” Diana shook her head. “He’s too good for that. I’ll deal with him. He won’t leave with a copper. If he pisses me off, he’ll leave with bruises.” Relaxing she looked at the small group, “is this meeting over? I wish to discuss the security details for the soiree with the Commander.” 

Tapping Josephine’s leg Leliana rose, “we are more than done for the evening. I want one of my agents to keep an eye on this man. What was his name?”

“Flynn. Flynn Martin. What’s he calling himself these days?” Diana chuckled.

“Comte Laurier. Michael Laurier.”

Diana’s cheerful smile fell, “thank you. I will… I will deal with this tomorrow. Good night ladies.”

Sitting, still unsure what to think Cullen watched Leliana and Josephine leave. Behind them Diana went about locking the doors. “What… there is something more going on here. Tell me what is bothering you.” Reaching for her, he held her hips in his hands as she carefully unbuckled his armor.

“Michael Laurier is a code name I used to run around Ostwick. After the Giant Bait thing. I needed a new name, a new chance to start over and to escape the ‘butcher of black rock’ nickname. So, I became Michael Laurier. It wasn’t hard. My brother had so many pieces of clothes and I knew enough about potions, it… it was easy.” Pulling the breast plate over his head she set it against the wall. “I met Flynn when he was being beat by one of the new gang bosses. He had cheated at Wicked Grace and they wanted their money back. I don’t know why I stopped and helped him that day, but I did. He clung to me from that moment on. We got into trouble, and out of it. Scammed most of the low lives in Ostwick and a few surrounding areas.” Laughing she shook her head, taking Cullen’s arm in hers. Turning it over she began unbuckling his vambraces. “He was the only one to know who I was, really was. He never ratted me out, or judged me. I thought when I left for the Conclave, I’d never see him again. Guess I was wrong.” 

“Sounds like you two were close,” the bite of Cullen’s words betrayed him. 

Dropping the vambrace, Diana froze. Flynn and her, had been close. As close as Cullen was now to her. “Its… complicated.” Reaching for his other wrist she was shocked when he pulled her down into his lap. Letting out a weak yelp she looked into his eyes. Fear and panic rising. 

“Diana,” he steadied her and wrapped his arms around her, “what does…. Is he… do you….” It was all on the tip of his tongue. A flood of emotions, pouring out of him in a rush that scared him. Scared him to death and all he needed right now was an answer.

She collected herself, the best she could. “It was a lifetime ago. I’m sure you had someone before, and if they showed up tomorrow, what would you do?”

“That’s not…” nodding he knew it was. “If they did, which they wouldn’t. I would honor what I have here, not some fantasy about what once was. You mean…. I love you Diana.”

Her palms became damp, and her mouth ran dry. When she went to speak the words came out as a squeak, devoid of any actual words. Her shoulders dropped, and she closed her eyes, fighting the stinging swell. “Cullen…” 

His hands left her, and he stat stiffly in his chair, “I see. Inquisitor, if there is nothing more this evening I have yet to attend to the duty roster and it is needed for the morning.” He half pushed her off his lap, keeping his hands firmly gripping the armrest of his chair. 

Taking a half step away from him, she wanted to say something, to do something but nothing came out of her throat. Instead she choked on the tears building up. Without saying another word, she straightened up, wiped at her eyes and calmly as she had at the Winter Palace she bowed. “Good evening, Commander.” The words were icy cold, and hollow as she turned, unlocked the main door and slammed it shut behind herself. Marching over the bridge in the blistering cold night she looked back to see the light extinguish in his office and the sound of something shatter. 

Walking through the rotunda she bumped nearly head long into him, “excuse me, I didn’t me to… Flynn?” 

“Di,” he smiled brightly, “I was wondering if I’d get to see my beautiful wife to be.”

“Wife to be? You can’t be serious Flynn,” Diana chuckled as they walked into the main hall. 

“I am. Your father agreed to it. I have a letter from him right here,” patting his chest he grinned. “I figured they wouldn’t let me in the front gates if they knew I was some low born commoner. Sorry for the charade Di. Thought you might like the nickname though. Just like old times.” Turning her, he caught her completely by surprise as he wound her up in his arms. His lips crashing into her. Old, familiar and warm. Just like all those lonely nights in Ostwick. Breathing in his scent, feeling his tongue dance off hers. It all felt so very familiar. Like home. That was when she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back. “I… I can’t…” Rushing down the hall she ran to her quarters, slamming and locking the door behind herself. Stumbling up her stairs she could hear him banging and yelling through the door. Collapsing on the bed she stared up at the canopy, “Maker, what have I done?”


	8. Broken

Tossing and turning in bed, she couldn’t sleep and come morning she was a wreck. She had spent the entire night thinking over how badly she’d messed everything up and how she could fix everything. 

“Put your back into it! He’s a trained Chevalier, he can handle it!” Cullen roared at the recruit as he worked on sparring with their Chevalier ally. His attention was completely wrapped around training today. Having slept little himself, he threw everything he had into physical work. Having already done his morning work out, he was now pushing to teach with the head Chevalier. 

“A truly powerful Commander,” Flynn chuckled leaning against the post watching the men clash and spar. 

Cullen had heard it, and he was already in no mood to deal with, him. Ignoring his words, he went on to show another shield blocking technique, one the head Chevalier had never learned before either. “Commander that is very useful and an excellent maneuver. May I use it with my men?” 

“Of course.” Cullen tried to smile.

Diana saw it coming. Racing down the steps into the main courtyard she grabbed Flynn’s shoulder, “what the hell are you doing?!”

“My fiancée! It’s so good to see you.” Bending down he tried to press a kiss to her cheek but she pulled away. “What’s wrong kitten? You were eager last night.”

“I was not,” she growled seeing Cullen marching towards them. “You need to leave. Now. Go home and forget this.”

Flynn’s gasped, “what are you talking about Di? What the fuck is going on?"

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Cullen folded his arms across his chest. “Is this noble prick annoying you, Inquisitor?”

“Cullen stop, please,” Diana tried to get between the men, but Flynn elbowed her sharply in the solar plexus causing her to gasp and drop to one knee. 

Enraging the Commander, “Get out of Skyhold now, while you still have your hide.” He was growling, standing firmly against Flynn, nearly nose to nose.

“What are you going to do, dog lord? Break me? I could beat you in a duel easily.” Smirking he looked over his shoulder at Diana who was slowly getting up. “That’s a fine idea. A duel. Winner can claim Diana, seeing you seem to be,” seeing him react by rushing to aid her up he chuckled. “You seem to fancy her yourself. Is this why you pushed me away last night? For this brute?”

Gasping, for some reason she couldn’t catch her breath. Cullen got her to her feet. “I except your duel. But not because I am fighting for her.” He snarled, getting Diana over to the steps. “I am ready now if you are, ser Martin.” Grinning he watched as Flynn took a step back, “yes, we do our research here. Flynn. So, if you think you can best an ex-templar, and the Commander of the Inquisition, get in the ring.” 

Diana was powerless to watch as Cullen grabbed his usual practice sword and shield, “first to yield loses. Those are the only rules,” he was smirking, and she was nervous. He was good, probably the best swordsman she’d ever seen. But Flynn was a rogue, used to sneaking attacks and quick jabbing. Finally, able to catch her breath she yelled, out, “Cullen, he’s a rogue.”

“I have less kind words for him, but thank you.” Cullen twirled the blade in his hand, seeing Flynn reach for two shorter blades. There were rogue warriors in the Order and he had trained with the best. This man before him, couldn’t be more than a street thug. Even if he had skill with the blade, he had put down enough of his kind in Kirkwall. Seen enough of their tricks to be aware of what they were capable of. 

“Don’t under estimate him!” Diana yelled again.

“Oh, I have no doubt the brute is quite good,” yelled back Flynn. “This won’t take me more than a few minutes love. Then we can be together.”

Cullen took a moment, as Flynn got prepared to look over to Diana. She was terrified, that he could see. Her face was pensive, and she was tearing at the fabric of her scarf. Shredding it. “I made a promise, Diana.” He yelled, catching her eyes. “I keep my promises.” 

Flynn had no idea what they spoke of as he raised his head to Cullen, “ready when you are. First to yield.” 

“First to yield,” Cullen’s voice was low as he easily slipped into his usual stance. He was raging but he was under control. Firmly back to those days in training. “Rutherford, against a rogue you must stare at his chest. The chest gives every movement away and allows you enough room to move. He wants to get in close, you want to keep him away. Maker, whatever you do, don’t let him get behind you. An assassin’s rush will end even the most well-trained warrior.” And so, he fell into it. Honing his focus on Flynn’s chest he moved according to his motions and waited. It would be foolish to give up the center of the ring. He had twice the advantage and the wherewithal not to abuse it. Flynn may have upset him, but in the ring, he was comfortable. In fighting and death, he was home. 

Diana, was chewing the scarf, stuffing piece after piece up into her mouth to stifle the scream building inside of her. Cullen had easily knocked back Flynn’s first two flourishes, keeping control over the heart of the ring. But Diana knew. Flynn was finding his ground, trying to find Cullen’s weak point. All she could think of was their first time fighting. He left himself open on attacks. Had he done that on purpose or was it his tick? His personal mistake. 

Then it happened. Diana wanted to shut her eyes, wanted to disappear. With her face buried in her hands, she didn’t see it. But she heard it. The heavy sound of air leaving a man’s lungs as he tumbled into the dirt. Then silence. Horrible, unbearable, silence. Prying one eye open she saw Cullen, standing just a few steps and safely out of the range of Flynn’s legs. Flynn, upon his back, swords knocked to the side and blood trickling from his nose. 

“Do you yield?” Cullen’s voice had dropped to a menacing tone, Diana had never heard before. His glare something from a nightmare, as Flynn scampered back, “I yield! I said I yield!” Defeated he hung his head, “go claim your prize.” 

Cullen tossed his sword and shield on the ground. Lifting Flynn by his shirt collar with two hands, he snarled in his face, “she is no prize to be claimed. That was your first mistake.” Looking over to Diana he was waiting for her to make some decision. Seeing her move, he knew. “Get your baggage, and get out of Skyhold. Now! Don’t ever darken Diana’s door step again. Or I will not be so kind, the next time.” Dropping Flynn, before he could collect his footing, he casually walked away. 

Diana sprung from the steps, not caring that anyone was around, or anyone was watching. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please, I made a mess. Please.” Tears began to cling to her eyes as he came closer. “I’m a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. And… and….”

“And this is not a conversation for the Inquisitor to have in public. To your quarters,” Cullen sternly pointed to the main keep before turning back and shouting orders for people to disperse. 

Without thinking she did as he instructed. Calmly walking back to her quarters, up the steps, where she began pacing back and forth. It was only mid-afternoon and there was so much to say. How was she going to get this out? What if he didn’t want to hear it? What if she just lost… The latch and familiar sound of the door bolting brought her right back. Followed by those tell-tale boots. One step after another and her hands were sweating. “Cullen… I…”

“Made a mistake.” Cullen nodded reaching the top step. “Compose yourself, and try again.” Walking by her, he calmly took a seat at her desk chair. 

Waving her hands near her face, she tried to cool the rush of embarrassment and reddening forming. “I… He was… but not… and…” Pulling at her hair she yelled, “why is this so hard?!”

Chuckling Cullen leaned back in the chair, “because it is honest. Nothing honest comes easy.” 

Rushing over to the desk Diana dropped to her knees, tears still coming down her cheeks. “I was wrong. I thought I knew what… it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to… I can’t lose you Cullen.” Grabbing his hands, she pressed them to her cheeks, “I’m so sorry. I should have said it then, and I will spend the next life trying to make up for it. Forgive me, please.”  
“Flynn is being packed up and sent from Skyhold. The letter he claims was his ‘proof of ownership’, was a fake. Josephine had a sample of your father’s writing and seal, they did not match the letter upon Flynn.” Cullen remained calm, trying to keep from bubbling over. “He had every intention of… Collecting you…” he chewed the words, rage still seething tightly under his surface. “You two had a history. More so than what you admitted to me.”

Hanging her head, her voice was barely a whimper, “it was a lifetime ago. And it was a lie. He never ‘loved’ me. Remember Cullen, love ruins everything.” Raising from the ground, she turned from him. She was ready. Ready to apply another layer of ice over the wound. Seal it up tight, build the wall thicker, higher. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered. The ice had seeped into her bones, and for the first time, it was cold. 

Rising, Cullen spun her around, his hands pressed tightly around her biceps. “Love is not weakness. Love is not loss and hurt. You have never known real love, and I want to give it to you. I want to love you freely without asking something in return. I do not want money, land, title, or a future favor. I want you, Diana. As you are, beautiful, broken and perfect.”


	9. Claimed

Breaking his grasp, she reached up and buried her hands in his hair. Jumping into his arms, she crashed her lips into his. Salty, tears mixed in with her tongue as she poured everything into him. Each pass of her lips, skimming and hot against his mouth. Her tongue pulling in his bottom lip, as her teeth came down and left impressions. He was already there. Already heated beyond control as he began tearing at the clothes keeping her skin from him. He couldn’t hold her at the same time, and taking several quick strides he slammed her against the wall, his knee bracing her high. 

Her hands fell from this hair, swiftly undoing his breast plate. They never broke their contact. Hungry, lips and chasing tongues dancing together as they disrobed. As Cullen dug his fingers into her shirt, he tore the fabric, sending buttons tumbling along the floor. She dropped his breast plate on top of the shred clothing. A muffled ting resonating as they both were too consumed to care. 

Torn clothing fluttered to the ground as hands and fingers sought hold. There were no words, no pleasant utterance, as they ravished each other. Cullen pulled her from the wall to bury her into the bed, tearing at her pants, and throwing them away. Reaching for his own, pants and smalls, he was breathing heavily. She struggled with her bra band, not being able to get it off quickly enough for Cullen. Tugging the tattered shirt over his head he grabbed her. Hauling her back down the bed towards him. Flipping her onto her stomach he pushed her knees up, till she was bent before him. 

He could smell her sweetness, see the shine of her arousal coating her thighs and he plunged into her. Wrapping his hand tightly around her hip he was pounding into her, each thrust of his hip, the sound of wet skin against skin filled her room. Her cries growing louder and louder. Leaning over her, he pressed her shoulders into the blankets, and soft mattress. Half muffling her cries as he ploughed her as hard as he could, the posts of the bed scratching into the stone flooring with each slam. 

Diana shoved a fist full of blanket into her mouth, stifling herself as he merciless fucked her, claimed her. It was too much, every nerve on fire and the angle he was hitting causing her vision to blur and eyes to water. Her fingers dug into the silk sheets, tearing them into balls that she clenched them tightly in her hands. She had already cum, within the first few moments he was inside her. And now, now it was too much. Just when she thought it was going to be too much, that she couldn’t handle it anymore, he snapped his other hand to her hip. Binding her flush against him and with a roar that would have rivaled an animal, he filled her, spilling deep, hot. 

Air, she needed air. Barely able to move, she clawed at her face. Tugging free blankets, and hair to clear a space to breathe. He withdrew from her slowly, and she moaned out again, the sudden heat slipping from her sent shivers up her spine and teased her once more. 

“I… I’m sorry….” Cullen tried to swallow but his mouth was dry, his throat burning, his lungs on fire. 

Flopping over, with the last of her energy she shook her head. “Come to me,” she held her hands out to him, half tugging him down. Right on top of her. He landed with almost all his weight, only barely able to get his arms up to brace himself. 

Giggling Diana was still trying to catch her breathe, her throat, raw and dry as well. “Don’t… don’t… I…” Brushing back a few of the damp coils from his face she sighed, “I am yours.” 

Rolling off her, he laid upon his back, still struggling to calm his heart. “What?” He was beyond confused. With what he had just done, he was certain she would be a crying mess and tossing him out of her room. Here she was claiming to have enjoyed it. “I will never understand you, Diana Trevelyan.”

“And neither shall I, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” Patting his chest. Taking in deep breaths she was finally able to quiet the war drum in her chest. Nibbling her bottom lip, she struggled to get the words out and several times the syllables died upon her lips. Finally, with all the courage she had inside of her she whimpered them out, “I love you, Cullen.”   
There was silence. A calm and empty silence between them. Diana wasn’t sure what to make of it as her ears strained to hear anything coming from him. There was a steady rhythm of breathing and she carefully leaned up on her elbow. Clamping her mouth tightly, she struggled to hush the giggle forming in her chest. He was asleep. Dead asleep. “Long night for you too, huh?” Carefully she pulled the blanket over him, tucking him in bed. 

It was late evening by the time he fluttered his eyes open, bolting straight up in bed, “Diana!” His heart was racing, and he couldn’t quite figure out if what had happened, had indeed happened. Running his tongue over his bottom lip, reaffirmed his memories. Her teeth imprints were still on his lower lip, and that couldn’t have happened in his dream. Scrambling to clear his sleep blurred eyes he fumbled with the blankets.

“Do take your time, you’ve been asleep for most of the afternoon,” Diana chuckled. She was lounging in her tub, hair piled high upon her head and secured with pins. Toying with the surface of the water she sighed, “come join me. You have need of a good soak.” 

“You… bath… while I was…” Cullen stammered over his words as he realized he was very much naked with torn bits of silk around him.

“I placed your armor in the closet, and I drew the curtains for them to fill the tub. It was close though. You began talking in your sleep just as they went to leave. Had to give Ashalle an extra sovereign not to speak about it.” Resting her head back on the edge of the tub she closed her eyes, breathing in the steam off the water. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” 

“Did we… was I…” sitting up, his head felt light. Very light. Lack of sleep and not enough food making his head swell and everything titter. 

Chuckling, Diana pointed lazily to her desk, “there is food and drink a plenty over there. I’ve picked my fair share and ordered far too much. The cook must think I am ripe with child or part animal to consume so much.” Laughing she returned her arm to the water with a delicate splash. 

Padding softly across to the desk, a blanket wrapped around his waist he sat, and began to eat. “Tell me.” He washed a mouth full of cold meat down with wine. “What did you do while I, slept?”

“Thought about things. Dealt with the removal of Flynn and then ordered food and bath. We are to leave for the Shrine in two nights. I had my companions informed and for speed we only take a small company. From what I’ve seen on the map, with horse we should arrive in half a week’s time. If the weather holds.” 

Wiping his lips, and beginning to feel the meal revive him, he closed his eyes. The battle with Flynn still very fresh in his mind. Far too easy. A few counter parries and the fool ran right into his faint. He had used the same technique with Diana, but let her hit him. To see how she worked, see how she turned the tide in her favour. Flynn made the mistake of thinking his wide side, was a mistake. A secret flaw he thought to expose. It was a carefully laid trap. Cullen used the moment that Flynn invested his energy against him, twisting his shield and smashing it into Flynn’s chest. The force was so great it sent his daggers sailing from his hand, and broke Flynn’s nose. Cullen was smiling to himself as he tore at the hunk of bread. 

“I want to apologize.” Diana chimed in, breaking him of his fond memory. “You kept your promise. I am not accustomed to such things. Nor, have I been in good enough company to ever expect them.” Sitting up, she leaned over the edge, watching him happily eat away. “I didn’t want to believe the only good memory of my old life was a lie. I wanted to believe he was honest and the memories were more than a silly wish.” Swallowing hard she stared at the floor, “When he told you to ‘go claim your prize,’ a bit of me died. Had thought… had hoped… but it was a lie. It was all a lie. And it hurt. Hurt so much.” She was crying again, and angry at herself for each tear. Each pointless tear. Flynn wouldn’t have cared a moment if she cried. And here she was now, tears spilling down onto the floor. “I realized it the night before. When I left your tower. I had messed everything up. I told you before, I never had a home. To think Flynn was my home, was foolish. A childish dream.” Laying back in the water she let out a weak chuckle, “I… I am not as well adjusted as I fooled myself into believing.”

“None of us are,” Cullen sighed, wiping the crumbs from his hands. “You knew him in a different time.” He was thinking of Amell. It had been a different time, and after the incident at Kinloch hold, he couldn’t see her as anything but a curse. It took years of being angry, then Kirkwall. Finding out she died to end the blight, it was hollow. He took on many lovers in Kirkwall. None that meant anything to him. Nothing that rekindled that chaste kiss in her quarters all those years ago. When he did find someone who sparked his interests, it turned out wrong. “I had a similar experience. Some memories are best left as memories.” Drinking down the glass of wine he brushed himself off. Sated for the moment with food and drink he plodded over to the tub. Letting the blanket drop he lowed himself into the water, “Dagna is brilliant. The rune for the tub is wonderful.” Easing down into the water, he sighed.

“You forgive me?” Diana barely opened an eye, too nervous to see what he would actually say. 

“There’s nothing to forgive. I… we have all made mistakes.” Nodding he slipped further down until his head was resting on the edge of the tub. 

Breathing easier, Diana relaxed, enjoying the heat of the water as it carried away the last of her concerns. “Good. I don’t want to lose…. I mean…” groaning she rolled her eyes. “Maker you make everything far more interesting.” 

Chuckling warmly Cullen nodded, “I cannot say I have ever dueled for a lady before, let alone an Inquisitor. I will have to add that to my many random skills.”


	10. Three Little Words

Scrubbing and washing him down, Diana enjoyed the feel of his skin, his muscle and hair against her fingers and hands. They filled the air was chatter. Pasts, and memories. Some painful, some silly, making both either laugh or a silence hover about them. 

There was no rush. Night having settled over Skyhold, there was no need to be anywhere. To do anything. They didn’t have to be the Commander, or the Inquisitor and the bath didn’t get cold. Dagna’s rune working its magic, to keep the water steaming hot for them. 

By the time they got out of the water, both were in a general good mood. Having apologized and spoken about everything they could think of they retired to the bed. Cullen tossed off the tattered remains of the silk blanket and sheets. Diana pulled a fur lined blanket from the chest at the end of her bed. Coiling tightly into each other, the blanket helping to lock in the heat of their bodies as they snuggled. Cullen wide awake, Diana not wanting to close her eyes. 

Cullen rubbed her lower back, his fingers dancing over her spine as she laid against him, “would it be selfish of me to wish this didn’t have to end?” Pressing a light kiss on her forehead, he sighed. 

“You would not be alone,” Diana tilted her head up, reaching she carded her fingertips through his hair before pulling him down into a sensual, soft kiss. Sliding her hand down to cradle his jaw, she sighed openly into his mouth. Tossing her leg over his waist she smiled as he rolled her over to her back. Seating himself between her open legs as they kissed.  
Braced, so he wouldn’t apply too much of his body upon her, he wanted to show her how he felt. Make her feel appreciated, and adored in truth. Not the fiction she had been used to, not the disconnected fucking she hid behind. He was going to worship her whole. Not just her body, not just the bits that made her keen out. Tonight, he would spend all evening lavishing his affections on her. Slow, passionate and honest.

His hand skimmed her side, gracing her goose bumped flesh as he deepened the kiss. His tongue dancing off hers, teeth nipping and sucking her bottom lip all while she sighed and moaned. His heated palm traced the edges of her stiffened peaks, teasing further hums and utterances from her lips. Her back arched up high, pressing her taut stomach against his, her whine begging him for more. But he took his time, as his calloused fingers rolled her nipple, edging another muffled gasp from her. His lips, and tongue keeping her from screaming out. Pressing himself against her entrance, he dipped in, moving slowly, and drawing out her urgings. Crooking his arm, he balanced on his elbows as he slipped his hand between the bed and the small of her back, keeping his contact against her. 

Careful, easy strokes, had her feeling each motion. Each pull of his powerful hips and each pensive slide back in, sent shivers down her spine. Had her chasing his hips, rutting along with him, in perfect sync. With her hands around his neck, they broke their kiss, both panting and trying to catch their breaths. Pressing his forehead to hers, he peppered her cheeks, nose and lips with quick kisses before languidly trailing to her neck and shoulder. 

Time dissolved into nothingness, as they both were bathed in the sensual build up Cullen was working them towards. Each pass of hands against hips, nails over reddened skin, teeth pressing and leaving indents in shoulders, filled the air with sighs and moans. Time. They took their time. Showing as much affections and attention to each other as they physically could. When they finally reached the peak, they hit it together. Cullen laid his head upon her breast, a smile etched upon his lips as he took in deep breathes to calm his racing heart. “Thank you,” Cullen exhaled heavily snuggling into her side as she toyed with his hair. 

Sighing with a half chuckle upon her lips she continued to coil and uncoil his curls about her fingers. “Cullen,” she gathered her courage up. Taking in a quick breath she began, “you are incredible. Absolutely unique, and you keep me thinking and guessing and while I should be able to predict what you’ll do. I cannot. You are anything but boring and…” Licking her lips, her stomach fluttered. “I love you, Cullen.” Holding her breath, she didn’t move. Waiting for something, anything. Was she supposed to burst into flames? Was there supposed to be spirits singing for her? Or was it this simple feeling of nervous, anxiety, washed down with a childish gaiety.

“You… you do?” Cullen’s voice was hopeful, scared and excited. Feeling her not moving, he raised up on his elbow. Craning around to look into her eyes, he could see the anxiety smothering her. “Diana,” tenderly he ran his fingers over her temple, sweeping the stray hairs from her face. “I love you, I… I have for longer than I care to admit. I understand you possibly do not know what this is. You have never been loved, and I want to show you what it is. I want to treat you the way you deserve. If you will let me. If you will have me.” His eyes softened as a soft smile spread over his lips.

Nodding, Diana choked back the tears threatening to overwhelm her. Forcing a laugh from herself, she smiled back, “I haven’t cried this much since I was a little girl.” Punching his shoulder, she cackled as he snickered at her feeble hit. “You are a menace, Ser Rutherford. And,” kissing his lips she sighed, “I can’t get enough of you.” Peeking over to her balcony she groaned, “we should get some sleep before the sun decides to ruin this moment. We leave for the Shrine come the morrow.”

Chucking Cullen kissed her lips one more, a quick moment, “you are beginning to sound like me. I do hope I don’t rub off on you.”

“Shortly I shall demand the duty roster and immediate results from my greenest recruit.” Diana laughed loudly as Cullen flopped back down on the bed. “Ah yes, that’s the sharp end! You point that at the enemy!” Mocking his voice, she burst into a fit of giggles. 

“You win, get to sleep,” Cullen plopped a pillow over her face as he snuggled into the bed. Closing his eyes, “we have work to do, far too soon.” 

Sighing Diana pulled the pillow under her head. “Good night, Cullen. For I shall surely mock you in the morning.” 

When morning rays settled upon her face she groaned and rolled over, only to find the bed empty. Grumpy, she sat up and looked about the room. There he was sitting upon the couch, lacing up his long tunic, “so quick to leave the warmth of our bed?” 

“Our?” Cullen grinned, purring back as he finished his laces. Tugging on his breast plate he smiled, “I have to get down there. Lysette needs the roster for the next two weeks, as well as a plan for training.”

“Lysette?” Throwing her legs from the bed, she hopped down and began to search her wardrobe for clothes. 

“Yes,” buckling the straps, he sighed, “is that an issue?”

“No!” Pulling her smalls up she shook her head, “I just have a feeling about her and I feel you may see it soon enough.” 

Unsure what she was talking about he wanted to press her for further information but there wasn’t time. By the sun outside it was already late in the morning, and he had lost the opportunity for his work out. He would need to get it in later in the evening now. 

Briskly walking through the main hall, he couldn’t get her words out of his head, or their night. He knew at some point he’d have to face the wrath of Josephine for his display. Surely, he couldn’t go knocking about the nobles, but the thought did bring a wide smirk to his face. 

Tomorrow they would leave for the Shrine of Dumat. Tomorrow they would put an end to Samson and his debauchery. That at least was his goal. He needed to pack, prepare himself and be sure to update the roster for Lysette. Rylen wasn’t due back from the Western Approach for a couple days and he could easily attend to the men upon his return.  
Taking the last step up to his office he began to run over the list of items in his head.


End file.
